or anything about it; only just say that you will come back and fetch her in a few minutes; and that she must wait patiently till your return;—and all is sure to turn out well, just as I wish it."
"But she will die of the cold."
"No, not she; Jack Frost will look after her."
But the woman's idea was that Martha should sit on that box until she died of the bitter cold which surrounded the ice-hill, near which Jack Frost resided.
Next morning the old man did as his wife had ordered him; he harnessed his horses, and drove off with his daughter to the ice-hill, where he left her to sit on the box under the big fir-tree, telling her that he would come back soon and fetch her away.
Poor Martha sat there for a long time, trembling with the cold. Not knowing why she had to stop there; but only that her father had told her to wait for him and not to move, she meant to obey him come what might. She felt dreadfully miserable, as she saw that the day was drawing to a close, and yet her father did not come. Had he forgotten his promise? or had something happened to him? She tried to cry, but no tears came. Suddenly she heard a slight noise close to her ear: it was Jack Frost jumping from tree to tree. When he saw her he came nearer to where she sat.
"Are you warm, pretty maiden? are you warm?" he asked, in a cold, clear voice, from the top of the fir-tree.
"I hardly know," she said with a shudder, as she tried to look up, but had not the strength to do so.
